The Tuning

a poem by Joshua Tyrone Harrel, USA

The Tuning

As the sun climbs and begins painting its portraitThe wind blows and the trees sway and the branches danceChildren gather and begin their harmonythe eagle glides above keeping a watchful eyethe squirrels scurry about causing acorns to drop which sound like snaresthe smoke from my cigar fogs the scenethe ivy stretches upward on their towersthe flowers' perfume spread throughout the stagethe late branches crash with their auburn color like cymbalsthe humming from the hummingbird like that of the brass section trumpets now sounding with colors and shadows now like house lights dimmingas the sun rises higher and the orchestra in tuneThe Conductor, now risen, nods and leads all its many parts in unison, in harmony, in its everlasting song